


Finding Steve

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 02:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: Six months have passed since Steve became a fugitive. You’ve been searching for him.





	Finding Steve

 

You sipped from the cup in your hand, cringing because you’d forgotten that the coffee was long cold. You shifted, trying to get comfortable, but you were pretty sure your ass was asleep, your left calf muscle was definitely cramping, and your stomach was growling. You were about to give up and go back to the motel when a man in a blue jacket and baseball hat came around the corner. You saw him glance back over his shoulder, familiar blue eyes drifting unseeing over your car, blue eyes you’d recognize anywhere.

You sat up so quickly the cold coffee splashed across your jeans, and your back spasmed uncomfortably. It was him, you were sure of it. After all these months of searching, you’d found him. You wanted to throw open the door to the tiny car, sprint across the street, and throw yourself into his arms. 

But you didn’t do any of that, instead, you stayed put, watching, waiting. You couldn’t afford to make a mistake, couldn’t afford for him to feel trapped, couldn’t afford for him to run. 

But, God, you’d missed him. When he’d disappeared you’d thought your world had come to an end, that there was no way you could go on, that you had lost love forever. You had to bite back the tears as a flood of memories washed over - you and Steve fighting side by side, you and Steve training together, running the Strike team together, working together after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell to figure out how to keep the world safe, falling in love over late night coffee and chinese food, the horrific fight you’d had over his choice to protect his best friend, and the pain his disappearance had caused, how hopeless you had felt. All of those memories crowded into your head, fighting for control, overwhelming you until you thought your heart might burst. 

You’d exhausted yourself looking for Steve, spent every dime you had and then some, almost given up, when a friend, a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, had given you one more lead. A lead that had taken you to London and a small one room flat tucked in an out of the way, not often visited part of town. You’d been watching the flat for three days, growing more and more discouraged with every day that passed, until the man with the broad shoulders and the familiar gait had appeared. 

His hair was longer, almost reaching his collar, and he had a beard, something you’d never thought you’d see. You’d rarely seen Steve with stubble dusting his cheeks, let alone a full-on beard. You dragged in a deep breath as you watched him unlock the door and slip inside, throwing one last look over his shoulder. A few minutes later, a light came on in a window on the top floor, Steve’s silhouette crossing in front of it.

You forced yourself to wait, wait for the streets to empty, and the lights to dim. Patience had never been your thing, but tonight, no matter how tough it was, you were going to sit tight. Of course, that didn’t stop you from checking your phone every few minutes, willing it to move faster. A little after two a.m., you finally pushed open the car door and hurried down the street, trying to stick to the shadows as you moved closer to Steve’s flat. You knelt in front of the door and quickly picked the lock. 

The door opened to a foyer lit by a small, uncovered bulb; the place was filthy, the floor covered in dirt, smudged with boot prints, the windows covered by cheap newspapers, dead bugs piled in the corners. The staircase leading to the upper levels was dark, but that didn’t stop you, you sprinted up them two at a time, not making a sound, your years of training kicking in. You took a second to get your bearings, turned to your left, coming to a stop in front of the last door at the end of the hall. 

It was now or never, the moment you been chasing for months, the moment you found out if you’d ever meant anything at all to Steve. You raised your hand and knocked on the thin wooden door. Your hands were shaking and you were having a hard time catching your breath.

It was quiet, so quiet you began to wonder if you’d picked the wrong flat or if he’d managed to leave without you noticing. You pushed a hand through your hair as you turned away from the door, wondering if you’d been completely wrong about the buildings layout. 

The next thing you knew you were stumbling backwards, a hand clamped around your upper elbow, another over your mouth. You were shoved against the wall so hard you saw stars, the slamming door like a gunshot beside your head. Steve’s face swam into focus.

His hand slid off your mouth at the realization that it was you standing in front of him. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” he growled.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” you snapped. “I’ve been trying to find you for months.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to be found.” He released you and took a step back. “You need to go.”

You mirrored him, shaking your head. “Don’t make me go, Steve, please. Don’t ask me to walk away from you.”

“You can’t be here.”

“I want to be here,” you whispered. “I need to be here with you.”

Steve sank to the bed behind him, glaring at you. “I’m a fugitive, Y/N, a wanted man. I violated the Accords, I’m the main suspect in the prison break on the Raft, I’ve aided and abetted a known assassin. Just being in the same room as me will get you arrested. Trust me, you don’t want to be here.”

You knelt on the floor in front of him, your hands on his knees. “I can’t lose you again,” you murmured.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he breathed, leaning over you, his hands on your waist, his forehead resting against yours. “I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt.”

You pushed yourself up, sliding your arms around his neck, your fingers running through his too long hair. “I won’t,” you replied, “not if I’m with you.” 

He sighed, shaking his head, his worry for you clear on his face. His hands slipped up your sides and then he was lifting you, pulling you into his arms, laying you across the too small bed, his weight settling over you. He cupped your chin, his tongue dancing across your lips, the kiss so soft it was barely there.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured.

You stifled a moan as his lips drifted over your jaw and down your neck, the unfamiliar beard dusting his cheeks scratching your sensitive skin, the feeling new, but oh so good. His mouth closed around your pulse point, sucking just enough to make your body tingle with need, your hands tightening on his upper arms, urging him closer.

His lips were back on yours, his hands everywhere, slowly peeling the clothes from your body, reigniting the passion that had lain dormant for months, a passion you hadn’t felt since Steve had gone on the run, a passion you’d only ever felt with him.

You moaned his name, one leg sliding around the back of his, your hips rising to meet his, desperate to feel him, to touch him, to work your way back into his heart. You couldn’t stand another day away from him.

Steve released you, pushed himself to his knees, and yanked off his shirt, throwing it aside before falling back over you, his kisses suddenly desperate and greedy, one hand between your legs, his fingers teasing you. You could tell he was holding back, keeping himself from doing all the things he wanted to do. You didn’t feel the same way, you’d waited too long to touch him, to hold him, to be in his arms again. You hurriedly unbuttoned his faded gray jeans, pushing your hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, taking him in your hand, stroking him roughly, impatiently. 

He groaned, his hips moving with the rhythm of your hand, his eyes squeezed shut, forehead resting against yours, two fingers easing into you, thrusting, his thumb circling your clit. You were gasping, squirming, undulating against his fingers, both of you moving with a need and a hunger that had been held in check and suppressed for months. 

Steve pushed his jeans off, growling low in the back of his throat as he opened your legs and settled between them, the tip of his cock brushing the lips of your pussy. You guided him into you, moaning as he stretched you wide.

“Steve,” you gasped.

He caught your lips in his, kissing you as he held you close, every inch of your bodies pressed together, his strong arms around you, his hips pumping, burying himself deeper inside you with every thrust. It was sweet, intense, desperate, and filled with a need and desire never expressed between the two of you. Steve couldn’t seem to get enough of you, every kiss was harder, deeper, longer, every touch was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, it was like nothing you’d ever experienced with him. It was so much more than you’d thought it could be.

You wrapped your legs around the back of his thighs, pulling him closer with every thrust, your hips rising to meet his, your body right on the cusp, so close you could feel it in your nerve endings, in every atom of your being. The orgasm swept over you, the pleasure rippling through every cell, rolling through you over and over until you were crying out Steve’s name in ecstasy. 

He groaned as your body convulsed beneath his, drawing his orgasm from him, his body tensing, his arms tightening around you, crushing you to his chest, his lips back on yours, kissing you until you were breathless.

You clung to him as you both came down, afraid if you let go for even one second you’d lose him again, a nagging, irrational fear that he’d disappear right before your eyes. Even when he tried to rearrange the blankets around you, you refused to let go. You wrapped yourself around him, your face buried against his neck, his lips drifting over your cheek, his hand a comfortable weight on your hip.

“Go to sleep,” Steve whispered when you turned your head for what felt like the hundredth time to stare at him, to drink him in, to remind yourself he was real. He brushed your hair off your forehead and kissed you. 

You’d always felt safe with Steve, protected. You wanted to do the same for him, protect him from the world trying to destroy him. Now that you’d found him, you were going to do just that. Protect him with your life if necessary.

* * *

_ It had taken her hours to fall asleep; every time she started to drift off she’d wake up, staring up at me like I was going to vanish on the spot, her arms tightening around me. I understood how she felt, I really did; I hadn’t been lying when I said I’d missed her. I’d missed her so much it had hurt. There wasn’t a day that had gone by that I hadn’t thought about her, about how much I needed her, wanted her. But I knew she was safer without me. Being with me could at the very least, get her arrested, or worse, killed, if she did what I knew she’d do - try and protect me. I wasn’t going to let that happen. _

_ Once I was sure she was asleep, really asleep, her hold on me loosening, her hands sliding off of me as she curled in on herself, I slipped out of the bed. I pulled my clothes on as quickly and quietly as possible and grabbed my go bag from behind the chair in the corner. I tossed it on the bathroom floor, then I slipped on my jacket, and snatched my phone from the table. Everything else would have to be left behind.  _

_ I leaned over Y/N and pressed a kiss to her cheek. I didn’t want to leave her, I didn’t want what we had to be reduced to something like this, but I was doing what was best for her. I was protecting her. I would always protect her. I kissed her one more time, before I grabbed my bag and slipped out the bathroom window. _

 


End file.
